


FTS3

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, Series: FTS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:18:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even more from the sad little world of Baby Blair and Caveman Jim...the angst never ends...<br/>This story is a sequel to FTS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FTS3

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here's part three! They just keep coming...

## FTS3

by JenCat004

Author's webpage: <http://www.geocities.com/televisioncity/stage/3664/>

Author's disclaimer: Again, **THIS IS SARCASM** folks! Try not to take it too seriously, tho if someone wants to, I would love to get a few "This is NOT funny, you big meanie!" flames. I can't help myself sometimes... My shrink says this is one of the ways I try to make sense of the world's annoyances. Whatever. It's fun! 

As always, feedback more than welcome.

* * *

"What wrong with Blair NOW?" Jim sighed, looking over at the small, tiny, delicately slender struggling form sprawled across the floor beside his mammoth, strong, wide manly feet. 

"I'm-I'm sorry Jim!" Blair squeaked weakly. "It's just that my shoulders are so delicate and frail and weak, and my sumptuous halo of hair is so thick and heavy, along with the weight of my impossibly long eyelashes, it's hard to raise my head sometimes..." 

"Jim like Blair's puny shoulders," Jim protested, rooting vigorously around in his nose as he scratched himself industriously. 

"I know..." Blair whispered weakly, managing to struggle to a sitting position. "But-" 

"Blair no bulk up!" Jim grunted. "Jim not want Blair looking like one of those buffed-out starving third-world children!" 

"Oh, I'd never want to get THAT big!" Blair squealed, shaking his head, which of course unbalanced him, and the weight of his thick, glossy locks sent him crashing back onto the floor. (Where he whined and struggled delicately) 

"That good," Jim nodded happily. "Jim no want Blair to be steroid king." (He went back to picking his nose) 

"I was thinking, though..." Blair whimpered softly, looking up at Jim through acres of curls that flowed across the floor like a river of silken flames, covering most of the hard, unforgiving floor that Jim nailed him to violently on a regular basis. 

"Jim wishes he could think..." 

"That maybe, to make getting around easier, maybe I should..." he swallowed weakly, preparing himself for his usual sharp blow across the face. (Jim liked to slap Blair at least 3 times a day, whether he deserved it or not) "...lessen the weight by cutting some hair off?" 

"NO!" Jim thundered, leaping to his strong, manly feet as he gave Blair his much needed blow across the chops, sending him flying into the kitchen, where he curled up (whimpering delicately) in a tea cup. "Blair no cut hair! Jim LIKE Blair hair!" 

"I know, but I just thought-" 

"Blair think just to make Jim feel bad that he can't!" 

"No, Jim, NO!" Blair screeched in protest, sobbing rivers of tears that threatened to fill the teacup and drown him. "I would never do anything to make you feel bad! I'd stop breathing if it would make you happy!" 

"Jim know Blair sacrifice for him," Jim grunted, shuffling into the kitchen, his knuckles dragging across the floor. "Jim know he never do anything for Blair, Blair do everything for Jim. But Blair can't cut hair! What Jim use to drag Blair around with then?" 

A fresh torrent of tears flowed from Blair's sapphire blue eyes as he realized the cruel selfishness of his statement. Jim was the only thing that mattered, after all. His needs weren't even secondary...( Maybe ninth or tenth, but even that would be pushing it) 

"Blair only express his needs to hurt Jim!" he bellowed, planning in his heart of hearts to kill himself, or disappear without a trace. "Blair should have no needs! Only JIM matter!" 

"I know, I know," Blair sobbed weakly, cursing himself for his selfishness as fresh tears flowed anew from his wide, midnight blue eyes, filling the cup to overflowing as he struggled to stay afloat. "I'm so inconsiderate!" 

"Jim know that," Jim grunted, pausing to pick a choice flea from his armpit. "But Jim love Blair anyway." 

"Thank God..." Blair sobbed, more tears welled up in his indigo blue eyes as he thanked the powers that be that Jim had once again overlooked Blair's bottomless well of selfishness. 

Jim reached over with an irritated sigh, plucking Blair out of the teacup as he started to go down for the third time, dropping Blair on the corner of a paper towel, growling with irritation. "Now Jim's fingers wet!" he complained, shaking his thick, powerful, manly hands grumpily. "Blair keep doing things just to hurt Jim!" 

Blair collapsed with a shrieking wail, sobbing from wide, cerulean blue eyes into the sponge next to him, which dwarfed his small, compact, tiny, delicate, frail, slender frame. "I'm so sorry Jim!" he shrilled, looking for something to slit his gossamer thin, pale white, perfect skinned wrists with. "When will I learn to stop hurting you?!?" 

"Probably never," Jim sulked, ripping the top off of a keg of beer, downing it with a room-rattling belch. Blair curled up unto himself as plaster rained down from the ceiling. "Look, we have skylight now!" Jim burped happily as a large section of the belch-abused ceiling caved in. 

Blair bit his lip against the whines that strained against his frail, delicate throat, knowing only a few minutes of sunlight could permanently mar his pale, flawless skin. But if Jim liked it, Blair would suffer the agonies of a thousand hells... 

"Oh, how I love you, Jim Ellison!" Blair sniveled weakly, wiping at his wide, sky blue, doe-eyed eyes. 

Jim nodded, even as his heart sank, knowing Blair was just saying that to humor and console him, planning the many ways he could go into a permanent zone, kill himself, or disappear and rejoin covert ops. Maybe even all three, if he really worked at it... After all, he and Blair had only been together for 7 years, as well as every past life since the dawn of man, and even though each life had been a perfect, blissful meeting of minds, souls and bodies, how could he ever hope that Blair could truly love him? It was pity, not love... 

And even as Blair pledged his endless love and devotion while fucking him into a mind-shattering coma after drawing up papers that gave full ownership of his mind, body and soul to Jim, Jim bit his lip and braced himself for the day that Blair would leave him forever... 

* * *

End  



End file.
